For Crying Out Loud
by Twist My Fate
Summary: Claire's eighteen and restless, ready to explore the world. Quil hasn't told her about the curious bond between them that manifested sixteen years prior. Can he let her go? And if he does, will she come back to him?
1. Eighteen

**Okay, I've had this written for quite a while and I've just now decided that if I don't post it I may never be inspired to take it any further. This will be my first posted attempt at a multi-chapter story in ages, so I may need some encouragement along the way. Without further ado, here we go...**

**

* * *

  
**

_Chapter 1: Eighteen_

Claire picked her way across Aunt Emily's living room, stepping over Jared and Kim who were sprawled out in front of the fireplace, and around Embry who was stretched out on the couch half asleep. Every seat in the Uley home was occupied, along with most of the floor space.

"Did you enjoy the party Claire?" Aunt Emily asked as soon as she entered the kitchen.

"It was great," Claire sighed, sliding quickly into the seat being vacated by Seth at the kitchen table. "I've never seen so much food in my life!"

"I was afraid we were going to run out," Aunt Emily continued with a smile as she slid plates into the kitchen sink, "Especially with Embry and Collin coming in right after their patrol, Em eats more than his share even when he hasn't been running for hours."

Claire laughed lightly, leaning back in her chair. The party had been in honor of her graduation and her birthday, both having occurred within the last week, she was now officially eighteen.

"Did your mother tell you that she had Sam take your things upstairs?"

Claire nodded in her aunt's direction. Claire had spent the last month convincing her mother to let her stay with Aunt Emily and Uncle Sam for the summer, she had only said yes two days ago.

"Why did it get so quiet all of the sudden?" Claire asked as she got up from her chair to open the screen door for Jacob and Renesmee as they left, Jake was carrying Nessie's sleeping form cuddled against his chest.

"Paul finally passed out," Seth answered. He had reclaimed his chair and was starting on a heaping bowl of chocolate ice cream.

"You can't still be hungry," Claire said incredulously.

Seth rolled his eyes and continued shoveling ice cream into his mouth.

Claire leaned against the counter and yawned, it was late, and the party had been exhausting.

"Tired, little girl?" Seth asked a few minutes later as he brought his bowl to the sink, the ice cream long gone.

Claire nodded, glancing around the house it seemed that everyone else felt the same. She didn't even have the energy to glare at him for using her silly nickname.

Most of the Pack was there. Kim had curled up against Jared now, both of them sleeping soundly on the floor. Embry was snoring rather loudly, and Leah, who had decided to occupy what was left of the couch, kept kicking him every time he got too obnoxious. Collin was nodding off in the single armchair, Meredith, his imprint, curled up fast asleep in his lap. Brady had disappeared, but was probably still somewhere in the house.

"Come on," Seth said, slinging an arm over her shoulders and guiding her out of the kitchen. "I think Rachel crashed in your room a while ago, so Paul's probably up there now too. I'll kick them out and you can go to bed, sound good?"

Claire nodded, barely hearing him this time she was so tired.

Seth woke Paul up without too much resistance, and the older werewolf left carrying his imprint downstairs with him, not wanting to wake her. Claire lay down on top of the bedspread, too tired to care, and was nearly asleep before she realized that there was one person she hadn't seen before coming upstairs. Actually, she hadn't seen him but once all night, and that was hours ago.

"Wait, Seth?" She called just before he shut the door behind him. "Where's Quil?"

In the dark Claire couldn't see Seth's jaw tighten at her question. "He's around."

Claire rolled over, facing the doorway and Seth's illuminated form, confusion lacing her features.

"Don't worry about him, little girl, get some sleep."

She would have protested, insisted upon more information, but she was just too tired. She was asleep before Seth had the door closed.

…

Seth was rummaging through the freezer again, looking for more ice cream, when he heard the screen door open again. He didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"She asked where you were," he stated, glancing over his shoulder as he pulled another bowl down from the cupboard.

Quil didn't make eye contact; he just tugged his t-shirt down over his head and caught the screen door with his foot so it wouldn't slam shut.

"Dead tired with her head on her pillow and she _still_ stopped me to ask where you were," Seth continued in a hushed voice, they were the only ones awake in the house.

Quil didn't answer. He pulled out the chair on the opposite side of the table and collapsed into it. They didn't make eye contact.

"Emily saved some food for you," Seth tried again, with a different subject. "It's on a plate in the microwave. She figured Embry wasn't smart enough to look there."

Quill shook his head once before leaning forward and resting his head on his folded arms. The two of them sat quietly, the only sounds coming from Seth's spoon hitting the bowl and Embry's snoring in the other room.

"She missed you Quil, she wanted you to be here," Seth continued, trying to get the other werewolf to talk.

"Yeah, right," Quil's head shot up, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You saw her tonight, she was perfectly content. It didn't matter if I was here or not. She doesn't need me to make her happy anymore, she probably never did."

"You know that's not true," Seth got up to put his second bowl in the sink.

"How would you even know Clearwater?" Quil's eyes narrowed in Seth's direction. "My entire _life_ is dedicated to making her happy, every fucking second, and she couldn't care less. She'd be perfectly fine without me being around."

"You love her," Seth replied simply, leaning back against the counter.

"Yeah, don't we all." More sarcasm.

Seth waited for the inevitable outburst that would follow, he knew Quil well.

Quil let out a low growl, both fists coming down hard on the table. He sat there for a moment, staring at his hands. Seth just continued to wait.

"Something's changed. She's been changing, I saw her at her graduation, today at the party, the last few months, she's been growing up. I'm seeing her differently, noticing things about her, the way she moves, the way she talks." Quil was shaking his head, still staring at his fists. "This imprinting business is bullshit; it worked out great for Jake, Sam, Jared, even fucking Paul! What the hell is wrong with _me_?"

_Collin too_, Seth thought, but he kept his mouth shut.

"I can't even be in the same damn room with her without feeling like I need to be at her side," Quil continued, cooling off slightly. "Needing to feel her presence, make sure she's okay. Just make sure that she's _there_. I don't want to be just her friend, I want mo—," he stopped abruptly, hearing his own words. "I sound like a fucking idiot."

"You're in lo—,"

"He's whipped, has been for the last sixteen years, and our little _Claire-Bear_ doesn't even give a fuck." Paul.

"You want to take this outside?" Quil stood up so fast that his chair slid backwards into the wall. It clattered onto its side, the sound echoing throughout the small house.

"Please, Ateara," Paul snickered. "Don't start things you don't intend to finish."

Quil lunged across the kitchen at Paul, but before he could make contact, Seth intervened. He caught Quil's shaking form, just barely restraining him, and forced him out of the kitchen and into the backyard. Paul followed, kicking his shoes off as he went, his teeth bared in a grimace.

Quil phased as soon as Seth let him go, completely disregarding the fact that he was fully clothed. Paul followed suit and launched himself at the other wolf. The two blurred together in a mass of teeth and fur as they disappeared into the trees.

"Fuck," Seth muttered to himself as he stripped his clothes off. He phased quickly and followed the other two into the forest, searching for Sam in his mind. The Alpha had taken patrol alone tonight, letting the rest of the Pack get some rest.

_Seth._ Not just Sam's voice, Jake's too.

_It's Quil and Paul. They're headed for the clearing behind the house. _Seth was running hard, trying to keep up with the two larger wolves.

_What did Paul say?_ Jake's voice.

_He was being a dick, as usual._ Seth answered._ Made a comment about Claire, Quil just went off._

_That's not like Quil_, Sam's calm voice entered Seth's head. He could feel the Alpha sifting through his thoughts, finding the conversation that he and Quil had just had in the Uley's kitchen.

Seth fell back as the two Alphas joined him, letting them lead. The three followed the sounds of Quil and Paul's fight into the clearing. When they finally caught up to them, the scene wasn't pretty.

Quil had Paul pinned to the ground, teeth bared only inches from the smaller wolf's throat, a low growl came from deep within his chest. Paul was whimpering under Quil's weight, one of his front legs bent at an awkward angle, the shoulder clearly dislocated.

_Quil, back off_. Sam was in Alpha mode, his voice strong and demanding. Quil didn't move.

_He's shutting you out, he can't hear through the rage. It's not going to work_. Jake's voice was tinged with worry. He'd never seen Quil this angry, ever.

_It's your call Jacob, you're the true Alpha, he has no choice if you command him to stop_. Sam's dark eyes met Jacob's just before the russet wolf bolted across the clearing towards the fighting pair.

Quil didn't have a chance to blink before Jake's entire weight slammed into his side, the two careened towards the trees, clawing and growling at each other. Jake pinned him, one paw at his neck the other at his shoulder, keeping his head on the ground. Quil snarled up at his best friend.

_Cool it, Quil_. Jacob was trying to be calm.

_I don't want to_. Quil's statement was punctuated by a deep growl and a futile attempt to free himself from beneath Jake's paws.

_Don't make me pull rank on you, Ateara_. Jake's voice was cold, Quil stilled.

The clearing fell quiet for a long moment; Paul's whimpers as he tried to get up were the only sounds.

_Please, go back to the house with Seth. We'll sort this out later_.

Jake let Quil up, watching him carefully, making sure he didn't make another lunge across the clearing for Paul. Seth approached them and nudged Quil towards the trees, back towards the house.

…

"Aunt Emily, what's going on?" Claire asked through a yawn as she stumbled into the kitchen. She had risen at the sounds of an argument in the kitchen, and the screen door slamming.

"I'm not sure Claire, but don't you worry, Sam will take care of it," the older woman was sorting through a pile of shredded clothing on the kitchen table.

Claire glanced at the pile, recognizing pieces of the black shirt Paul had been wearing earlier. Shaking her head and yawning, she headed to the stairs, climbing them slowly on her way back to bed.

…

Seth met them at the door when they arrived, Jake supporting Paul on his good side, Sam following them in, his face blank.

"He's gonna need some ice on his shoulder." Jake helped Paul into one of the kitchen chairs, "He'll be fine in an hour."

"Where's Quil?" Jake asked, glancing into the living room at the sleeping forms of the rest of the Pack.

"He went home," Seth answered, tossing a bag of ice in Paul's direction. He filled a few more, sliding them across the table for when the first melted.

"Rachel?" Paul's voice was strained as he adjusted the ice on his healing shoulder.

"She's the one who took him home," Seth replied with a dark look. "She heard what you said to Quil. It took her _and_ Emily to talk him down and get him to phase back, Rachel drove him home after that."

Paul was glaring, not believing Seth's words.

"She's out for your blood Paul," Seth continued, letting his words sink in. "I still don't get how she can deal with you if you're always pissing her off so much."

Paul shook slightly, moving to get up, but stopped when Jake's hand came down hard on his good shoulder, keeping him in the chair.

Sam came back into the kitchen.

"Go get some sleep," he looked from Seth to Jacob. Seth glanced over at Paul once more before retreating to the living room. Jake nodded and ducked out the screen door.

Seth found his sister sprawled out across most of the couch, having shoved Embry to the far end. Her head was resting in Em's lap. Seth laughed quietly, his older sister would flip if she could see the position she was in now. He lifted Leah's legs gently, sitting down and letting her feet fall across his lap. Leaning back, he closed his eyes, willing sleep to come to him. It had been a long night.

* * *

**Alright, I'm notorious for abandoning my stories if I think no one's reading them. So send me some reviews as inspiration if you like where this is going so far!**


	2. Reassurance

**I apologize for the ridiculous amount of time that it's taken me to update this, I really do. I had a severe case of writers block with this chapter and I just couldn't make it turn out right. Even now I'm not entirely sure if I'm happy with it, but I've decided to just post it and press on because I know where I want to take this story I've just got to build a bridge between here and there and that's proving to be a little difficult. I've got it all headed in the right direction now though, so I'm going to try and update much quicker this time! : )**

**And I'd like the thank** FranChan** for the amazing review, it made me want to get this chapter posted as quickly as I could, and start working on the next!**

* * *

_Chapter 2: Reassurance_

Rachel followed Quil up to his front door. The house was small, two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom. Just big enough for him and Embry, and occasionally Seth when he needed a place to crash where his sister couldn't find him.

The front door opened in to darkness and the two passed silently through the living room and hallway, Rachel taking care not to trip over something in the dark. Quil finally decided to turn on a light once they had reached the kitchen.

Rachel snatched something from behind the microwave before shrugging out of her light jacket and perching on top of the counter. She watched Quil as he shifted from place to place in the kitchen: the fridge, the cupboards, and then more obscure places like under the sink and the back of the freezer. It only took about five minutes of standing in the middle of the kitchen before his gaze caught the microwave and he rounded on her.

"Rachel," his voice was an attempt at calm that failed terribly.

"No," she replied firmly. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the neck of the bottle at her side, his eyes following her movement, before returning to hers.

He was tired, and she was expecting it; two factors that allowed her mere human reflexes to pull the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels out of his reach when he lunged for it.

"Rachel," no more calm Quil.

"It won't fix anything," she replied.

"I don't want anything _fixed_ Rachel, I just want to forget about it," Quil was getting angry again, the tremors starting in his hands. Twice in less than two hours, this really wasn't his night.

Rachel noticed his shaking hands and set the bottle back down before sliding off the counter. The motion increased their height difference drastically, so much so that she had to lift her chin in order to refrain from breaking eye contact.

"No," her voice was firm and demanding. She'd found that being overly assertive with a volatile werewolf was usually enough to calm him (or her) down, it was probably an Alpha thing. Rachel had experienced moments like these hundreds of times; Paul had yet to reign in his quick temper completely. Her guess was that he didn't want to.

Quil's eyes stayed locked with hers for a few long moments before he broke the stare and stormed out of the kitchen. Rachel let a hint of a smirk show on her mouth as she replaced the bottle behind the microwave and followed him in to the living room.

She paused at the end of the hall, watching him pace across the small room. He paused near the end of the couch and she held her breath in anticipation of what would come.

Even though she knew it would happen, she still jumped a little when he slammed his fist in to the wall. The drywall cracked, leaving a gaping hole in its surface. Quil blinked at his bleeding knuckles for a moment, watching as they quickly started to heal, before he collapsed on to the couch, his head falling in to his hands.

Rachel sighed quietly, hating to see him so conflicted, and crossed the room. She sat down on the coffee table across from where Quil sat on the couch and folded her legs beneath her. Quil didn't look up at her, so she waited.

There was a solid five minutes of silence before Quil finally moved again, looking up at Rachel with conflict evident in his dark eyes.

"I don't know what to do."

"This will work itself out;" Rachel said soothingly, "the two of you were made for each other. You see how things are between Paul and me, no matter how much we fight we always work things out. It will be fine."

"If Claire and I were _made for each other_ then explain to me why she spends more time with Seth than she does with me," Quil's biting tone made Rachel flinch just slightly. "Explain to me how she went the entire night without noticing that I'd left her party," he was gaining volume as his tirade continued.

"She asked wh—," Quil cut Rachel off before she finished.

"If we were made for each other why does she avoid me so much these days?"

"She doesn't," Rachel whispered, shaking her head, unable to understand where Quil had come up with such ideas.

"You're kidding, right? She hasn't been to the shop in months, and when I went up to see her two weeks ago I spent more time with her _sister_ than I did with her." Quil was scowling now.

"Stop," Rachel said firmly, raising her voice to make her exclamation all the more clear. She reached out and placed her hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look at her.

"Take a deep breath," Rachel continued, over exaggerating the action in example. "Now listen, this _will_ work out, I know it will, and you know it will. Starting right now you are going to stop convincing yourself that Claire hates you. You know she doesn't."

Quil opened his mouth to protest but Rachel quickly covered it with her hand.

"There is nothing more for you to say. You and Claire were made for each other, in the end it will work out just fine and you two will be together, end of story. And now, you are going to bed." Rachel removed her hand from over his mouth and pointed towards the hall.

"Not everyone gets the fairytale ending like the immortal Jake and Nessie, Rach," Quil snapped back, ignoring the end of Rachel's statement.

"Go to bed, you're being ridiculous," Rachel leveled Quil with a stare that did absolutely nothing in the way of convincing him to move from the couch.

"Am not. I'm just say—," he didn't get a chance to finish.

"Go to bed," the order was repeated as Rachel stood from her seat on the coffee table and once again pointed towards the hall, an irritated scowl tugging at her mouth.

Quil just rolled his eyes.

"What am I, six?" He asked as he stood from the couch.

"You're sure as hell acting like it," Rachel answered to his retreating back as he did in fact head in the direction of his bedroom.

…

Half an hour later Rachel was lying wide-awake, curled up under a blanket on the couch in Quil and Embry's living room. She's decided that it was too late to go back to Emily's, and that she still wasn't prepared to face Paul and his big mouth. But it wasn't her partner's crude way with words that had sleep evading her.

She was caught up in wondering about Quil and Claire and _why_ they weren't closer; closer like Jake and Renesmee, or Collin and Meredith. Quil hadn't been lying when he'd said that she spent a lot of time with Seth, but she couldn't be spending _that_ much time with him, right? Rachel knew that there was nothing more than friendship between Seth and Claire, Seth wouldn't (couldn't, actually) do that to Quil, but it was something to think about. Shouldn't Claire be _drawn_ to Quil, or something like that?

Rachel sincerely hoped that the things she'd said to Quil were completely true, but the logistics of imprinting kept floating to the surface of her mind. A werewolf had to be whatever his imprint needed him to be; even if that meant that he was destined to be merely a friend to her. This huge technicality was worrisome.

…

Claire stumbled blearily from her room the next morning, she hadn't slept particularly well, waking up more than once thinking she'd heard the screen door slam again. She'd even gone downstairs once more to check, but the house had been dark, the only sound the snoring of the numerous werewolves spread out around the living room.

Stumbling past the bedroom of the Uley twins, Claire caught a glimpse of something that nearly made her burst out laughing. The twins had been sent to stay at a friend's house the night before, and Brady, who had been the only one absent from the living room when she'd gone to bed, was currently curled up on the lower of their two bunk beds. He was quite a sight, seeing as he didn't really fit on the bed at all and he was wrapped up in what was unmistakably a Batman blanket.

Claire shook her head and continued down the stairs smiling just a little. The living room appeared much the same as it had when she'd gone up to bed. Save the fact that Leah had successfully dislodged Embry from the couch sometime during the night, and Paul was spread out on his back a few feet from Jared and Kim, one arm draped over his eyes.

The kitchen was already filled with delicious smells when she entered, and she wasn't at all surprised to find Aunt Emily awake and hard at work on breakfast. It took a lot of work to keep a pack of werewolves fed.

"Good morning Claire," the greeting was whispered, though Claire wasn't sure why, there was no way that any of them could hear anything over the snoring.

Claire slid in to one of the chairs at the kitchen table and laid her head down on her folded arms, not having had the best night's sleep. She heard Aunt Emily slide a cup of coffee in her direction and mumbled an incoherent sound of thanks.

The timer on the oven began to beep and Aunt Emily rushed across the kitchen to quiet it. Claire heard her curse under her breath but didn't realize the reason until she heard the shuffling from the living room.

"Each and every one of them slept through the worst thunderstorm of the season," Aunt Emily said exasperatedly, "but not once has the damned timer failed to wake them up."

Claire would have laughed had she the energy. She kept her head down when she heard the kitchen begin to fill with the hushed voices of the half-asleep Pack.

"Damn it, Call!" Leah hissed, "Lean on somebody else!"

There was a dull thud followed by a whimper as Leah undoubtedly shoved her sleepy antagonist into the wall. Poor Embry.

"What's for breakfast, Emily?" Claire wasn't sure if this was Paul or Jared, the voice still slurred by sleep.

"Muffins," Emily replied in a hushed voice, "Don't you dare eat them all before the girls wake up!" There was a quiet sound of indignation, no doubt from Leah.

So that was the reason for the whispering, the still sleeping imprints were in the living room and no one wanted wake them. Claire had been a witness to Paul's wrath towards anyone who disturbed Rachel more times that she could count. It wasn't pretty.

Claire still hadn't moved when they all finally managed to cram in the small kitchen, which meant she hadn't caught Seth's head cocking to the side as he observed her position at the table. He shook his head to clear the feeling of déjà vu and grabbed her untouched cup of coffee.

Claire's hand shot up and grabbed Seth's wrist before the cup was even halfway to his mouth.

"You're quick, little girl," he said with a smirk before he shook her hand off and downed most of the contents of the mug. She just scowled up at him.

The volume in the kitchen increased substantially when Collin returned from the living room with his arm around Meredith, Kim following close behind them to join Jared where he leaned against the counter.

"Where's Rachel?" Claire asked Seth who was leaning against her chair.

He shrugged in response, artfully avoiding her gaze. Claire's mind immediately snapped back to the brief conversation she'd had with Aunt Emily last night, and the pile of clothing that she had been sorting through, some of which was most definitely Paul's.

Something had happened last night.

"Quil?"

"Home," Seth set down the cup before he looked at her, his eyes were sympathetic.

Claire didn't press him further. Paul's presence minus Rachel just felt wrong and Quil's absence was beyond strange. She could understand (well, not really) him missing the party last night, but Quil Ateara would _never_, not in a million years, pass up breakfast, especially if Aunt Emily was cooking.

"He's been acting strange," Claire said quietly to no one in particular, though the majority of the people in the room could hear her clear as day.

"So you've noticed too?" Leah replied cheerily as she came to stand next to her brother.

Seth shoved his sister's arm and snapped something at her that Claire didn't quite catch. Leah simply shrugged indifferently and grabbed a muffin from the tin on the table before moving back to the other side of the kitchen.

"You know what's up with him, don't you? You know why he's been avoiding m—everyone," Claire said, looking up at Seth accusingly. "_And_, you know what happened last night."

"Why don't you talk to Quil, little girl," Seth replied with a slight smile, he hadn't missed her near slip. "He might tell you about it if you ask him."

Claire simply turned back towards the table, ending the conversation abruptly. Seth had just confirmed Quil's involvement in whatever had happened, but she couldn't help but notice that he hadn't answered her original question at all.

* * *

**Please forgive any grammatical or spelling errors, I read through it a few times to weed them out but I am only human after all. Reviews would be lovely, though I do realize that this chapter is relatively dull, it will get better, promise!**


	3. Easy

**I am not dead. I've decided to hit refresh and start taking more time to make this story better, and I've adopted a new pen name for the occasion, so I'd like to reintroduce myself as **Twist My Fate**!**

** I feel terrible about letting this story go for so long without an update, but I have about a million and two things to do at any given time and some things will inevitably fall through the cracks. I wrote the very beginning of this chapter ages ago, and just finished the end today, so I'm really not sure if it even flows properly. I can't say I'm happy about this chapter, but I'm already working on the next and I hope to make a vast improvement. I plan to update soon, and I've got someone who likes to consistently remind me to keep writing, so I will probably be able to stick to that. I will stop my rambling/apologizing now...**

* * *

_Chapter 3: Easy_

The glare from the sun drew Claire's attention away from her sketchpad and out to the ocean in front of her. She had perched herself atop one of the skeletal pieces of drift wood on First Beach earlier in the afternoon hoping to finish some charcoal sketches for her portfolio. As the sun had begun to sink lower, the glare off the crisp white paper caused her attention to drift away from her drawing and towards more confusing matters.

A week had passed since the party at Aunt Emily's, and the unknown incident that had occurred later that night. Rachel and Paul's relationship had appeared particularly volatile in the days following that night, and Quil had been practically nonexistent, having made his first appearance just the night before, and even then only stepping in to the kitchen to speak to Uncle Sam before departing without so much as a glance in Claire's direction.

Seth remained just as cryptic as he had been the morning after the party, telling her once again that she should just talk to Quil. The problem was that she just couldn't, despite her curiosity she felt strange just thinking about talking to him, which was odd considering the fact that she had been glued to his side for almost her entire life up until the past six months. Sure, they hadn't talked much in the last few months, but that didn't mean that things had changed; Claire didn't understand why Quil had been acting so different around her, she hadn't done anything wrong, right?

Claire was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice that she had company on the beach until they were right behind her.

…

"Guess who?" A pair of hands reached around to cover Claire's eyes, making her jump, charcoal and sketchpad tumbling off her lap.

Claire thought she recognized the voice, but it couldn't be?

"Summer!?"

"Yep," Claire jumped up and turned around, grinning, "And Kaye too."

"What are you two doing here?"

"What a way to greet your two best friends in the whole entire world," Summer replied before turning away, "We can leave if you'd like."

Claire just laughed and shook her head, moving so her friends could sit on either side of her. The three had become friends in junior high when Claire started at the public school, seeing as the Makah tribal school only facilitated grades first through fifth. For the last seven years of their lives they had been practically inseparable: Claire the shy and exotic one with her Native American roots, Summer the tall and severely outspoken blonde with a taste for trouble, and Kaye the petite brunette who played the voice of reason for the group more often than not.

"We thought we would come down to visit you," Summer started once they were all seated, "So we both drive all the way down here, arrive at your Aunt Emily's, only to find that you're not even there!"

"So she sent us out here to find you, but only after she insisted that we try the cookies that she's been baking all afternoon," Kaye continued, "They were fantastic!"

"No one can match Aunt Emily's baking," Claire added, smiling.

"We also have a message, well, it's more of a note," Summer continued, her voice taking on an excited tone, "Seth gave it to us, we're supposed to give it to you—"

"And then we're supposed to take you by the shop so you can give it to Quil," Kaye finished Summer's sentence eagerly, "Though we're not really sure where that is. It seems kind of silly to me, but Seth said it was important, so I don't know."

"Oh no," Claire muttered under her breath, and then quickly snapped her mouth shut hoping that her inquisitive best friends hadn't heard.

No such luck.

"Oh no?" Summer asked curiously, her head tilted to the side. Kaye was mirroring the blonde on Claire's other side.

"It's nothing," Claire said in a rush, "It's just that going to the shop is going to take some time, and we might be late for dinner, and Aunt Emily hates when people are late for din—,"

"Stop," Summer cut in, knowing that nearly every word of Claire's had been a lie.

"What's up, Claire?" Kaye asked from her other side.

Claire sighed.

"Remember how I always used to come down here on weekends to visit my Aunt and Uncle, and Quil?"

Her friends nodded. They didn't know everything about Claire's family in La Push, they knew almost nothing actually, but they had heard just enough to know that Claire and Quil had been close, practically brother and sister. The two girls had met Quil only twice, both times being within the last year, it was too risky for Claire's friends to start asking questions about the Pack, more specifically, questions about why none of them seemed to get any older. Claire was thankful that her two best friends weren't the type to look in to things too much; they simply took things as they were.

"Well," Claire continued after a moment, trying to think of a simple way to put things, "Quil's been acting weird lately, and things have just changed between us, Seth keeps telling me I should talk to him. We haven't really been speaking to each other."

"That's too bad," Kaye replied with a pout, "It seemed like you two were really close."

"Yeah, I don't know," Claire paused for a minute and noted that the sun was just starting to sink below the trees, "We better go now, it's getting kind of late and I've been out here for hours."

The three got up silently, Claire gathered up her sketchpad, and they headed up the beach towards Kaye's silver Intrepid.

"You actually let her drive?" Claire inquired; astonished by the fact that Summer had summoned enough patience to allow someone else to drive her all the way down to La Push.

"We drove separately," Summer laughed, getting in to the back seat so Claire could ride shotgun, "Miss. Kaye here is only staying for the afternoon, seeing as she's got a date tomorrow night."

"Oh really?" Claire questioned, eyebrows raised, "How is Tyler?"

"It's Kellan now," Kaye replied with a faint blush as she turned the keys in the ignition, "And he's fine, in more ways than one," she finished, biting her tongue and watching Summer roll her eyes in the rearview mirror.

"I'm jealous," Claire sighed, leaning back in her seat and looking out the window.

"You're kidding right?" Summer laughed incredulously, "You're spending the summer down here with all these gorgeous guys, and you're jealous that Kaye's hooking up with the former second-string quarterback?"

Kaye shot the blonde a look over her shoulder, before asking Claire for directions. Claire ticked off a few turns and road names before Summer interrupted again.

"There's no way that you don't think at least _one_ of these La Push boys is hot," she said as she leaned forward between the two front seats, not quite finished with the subject, "I've only met a handful of them, but there's got to be something in the water down here for them to all look that good."

"You know, she's right," Kaye added with a shrug, "I'm not going to lie, we met Seth earlier, he's pretty cute, and Qu—,"

"What?!" Claire interrupted her friend with a tone strangely full of accusation; her hand flew up to cover her mouth as soon as she realized she'd spoken aloud.

"Come on, Kaye," Summer put in quickly, "Saying that to Claire is like when Tyler told you he thought your sister was hot."

"Sorry," Kaye apologized, glancing over at Claire with a curious expression, trying to figure out where that outburst had come from.

Claire just nodded mutely, her hand still over her mouth. To break to weird tension in the car Summer took the opportunity to launch in to an elaborate version of why Kaye and Tyler's relationship hadn't worked out. Claire didn't listen; she leaned her head against the cool glass of the window and tried to figure out what had possessed her to react that way to Kaye saying that Quil was attractive. Why should she care what people thought of Quil?

…

Kaye pulled the car in to the lot of Quil and Embry's auto repair shop in silence, Summer having resorted to pouting in the back seat when she realized that no one was listening to her.

"This is it right?" Kaye asked as she pulled the keys out of the ignition.

Claire nodded and unbuckled her seatbelt. She got out of the car and headed towards the garage, Summer and Kaye following behind her.

The shop technically belonged to Quil; he had inherited it from his father, but unfortunately not his talent as a mechanic. Sure, he could do simple repairs, but Embry was the one with a gift for fixing anything with an engine; and the heavy metal pouring out of the speakers in the shop indicated that Embry Call was currently hard at work under the hood of one of the cars in the garage.

"Claire, wait," Kaye stopped her friend, "I've got the note," Kaye then fished a folded piece of paper from her purse and handed it to Claire.

"This is ridiculous," Claire said to no one in particular, staring at the paper, "I'm not going to play delivery girl for Seth, if he has something to say he can pick up a phone." Claire shoved the note in to her back pocket and tried to put it out of mind, she wasn't here to play messenger for Seth; she had decided to talk to Quil.

Kaye exchanged a quick look with Summer, both wondering at Claire's change in attitude, before they followed her the rest of the way up to the garage.

"Embry!" Claire shouted over the music as they entered the garage.

When he didn't acknowledge her she went over to the stereo and pulled the cord directly out of the wall, making the air ring for a moment or two with the echo of the obscenely loud music.

"Hello, Claire," Embry said as soon as the music cut out, still not bothering to look up.

Claire didn't question how he recognized her; she knew he could _smell _her. Many years of losing at hide-and-seek had taught her that lesson, along with the fact that Embry was a compulsive cheater at all games that carried any semblance of rules.

"Is Quil around?" Claire questioned, venturing to the back of the garage towards Embry, Kaye and Summer in her wake. The surroundings were familiar though she hadn't been there in nearly a year, same tools scattered haphazardly, same axle grease and gasoline smell.

"He's in the back—on the phone with a parts supplier in Port Angeles," he turned now, straightening up and wiping the grease off his hands with a rag.

Claire had been the only one to catch the slight pause in his sentence that marked the moment when he noticed that she hadn't entered the garage alone. He usually didn't take that long; he had the best sense of smell in the entire Pack.

"A bit slow today?" she quipped ambiguously (though Embry knew what she meant) before introducing her friends, "this is Summer, and Kaye."

"Nice to meet you," Embry nodded before starting to turn back to the car.

"I've got to talk to Quil," Claire continued, regaining Embry's attention immediately, "Could you keep them out of trouble for a little bit?"

"Sure, sure," Embry replied, sounding far more like Jake than he had probably intended.

"Thanks, I won't take long, promise," Claire added to her friends as she headed towards the back of the garage and the door that led to the office.

Kaye's phone started to ring just as Claire disappeared through the office door, the tone resonating off the tall garage walls.

"It's Kellan," she said after a quick search through her purse to find her phone, "I'm gonna take it, I'll be right outside."

Kaye's words fell on deaf ears; Summer had perched herself on top of a stack of tires and was now not-so-subtly leaning in Embry's direction trying to see under the hood of the '75 Dodge Challenger he was working on.

…

Quil turned towards the door as Claire stepped into the office, the voice of the sales rep on the phone disappearing completely when she smiled in greeting. His thoughts started racing, wondering what she was doing at the shop, wondering if something was wrong, wondering a million different things all centered around _Claire_. It took repeated attempts from the other end of the line to get him to turn back to his phone conversation; doing so only after Claire had seated herself upon the other end of the desk.

It was less than a minute before Quil flipped his cell phone shut, tossing it rather carelessly on to the desk. Claire watched as he leaned forward, running both hands through his hair, an unmistakable sign of stress.

"Trouble?" She questioned, honestly curious.

"In the form of more things Embry _needs_ for his project car." Quil turned the chair he was sitting in as he spoke, so he could face Claire.

Claire nodded. They sat there for a moment, neither one speaking. Claire trying to figure out why it was so easy just to sit with Quil, the silence anything but awkward; he was content just to be graced with her presence.

"What are you doing here?" Quil's question sounded different that he had intended, Claire wrinkled her nose and started to stand.

"You know that's not how I meant it, Claire."

She settled back down on to the edge of the desk, raising an eyebrow at him. It was strangely easy, too easy, to slip into place where she felt comfortable with Quil, where she felt safe.

"You haven't been to the shop in a year, you've barely come down to La Push for that matter," he continued, "Now you're spending the entire summer here, what's up?" He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, noting the fact that from this angle he was looking up at her.

She shrugged. "I wanted to talk to you," there was no point in skirting around the subject now; he could always tell when she was lying.

Quil's smile was brilliant, and dangerously contagious. Claire couldn't help but smile in return, for some strange reason Quil's happiness made her happy. It was unexplainable.

The two slipped in to easy conversation. Claire's curiosity about the events the night of her party was pushed aside, the note that she was supposed to give to Quil completely forgotten.

* * *

**I feel like this chapter is just terrible...ugh. So I'm going to work twice as hard to make the next one good, alright? **


	4. Notes

**I feel pretty accomplished about the completion of this chapter, I wrote it in its entirety between the hours of 3:00 and 4:00 AM. The content on the other hand I'm not so sure about, but I'm starting to sound like a broken record on that subject so I'll refrain. I'm trying to build my story up to a turning point that I already have planned out, so apologize if it seems to progress slowly, I tend to get going on individual scenes and then I don't realize that I've exceeded my word count for a chapter and I've only pushed my time line forward a few hours. **

**But other than that, Enjoy!**

* * *

_Chapter 4: Notes_

"Quil, I've got a question." Claire had nearly forgotten that she had intended to ask him about the incident that had occurred the weekend before. They had slipped into a conversation about trivial things, she felt like she was catching up with an old friend, which was strange since Quil had never left.

He tensed slightly at her statement, but nodded, indicating that she should continue.

"What happened last weekend after my party? I heard arguing in the kitchen, but when I came down only Emily was there, with a bunch of clothes that looked like Paul's. I thought maybe he lost his temper again, and I was just wondering…" Claire reigned herself in, realizing that she was rambling and leaving no room for Quil to answer.

"Paul didn't really lose his temper." Quil's response was brief, and a little harsh, he was seeing red at the mere memory of what Paul had said about Claire.

"I don't understand," Claire went on, not noticing the slight tremor run through Quil's upper body, "It looked like he had phased with his clothes on…again."

"He did, he said some things; it got a little out of hand."

"You're being kind of vague." Claire was getting frustrated with his ambiguity.

"I know."

Claire clenched her jaw; the conversation was starting to go in circles. She knew about the Pack, she knew that their job was to protect La Push from the _cold ones_, and whatnot. Clearly, the events of the weekend before hadn't involved any sort of vampire action; the Pack had been much too relaxed the next morning for that to be the case. Quil would have told her if there were vampires involved, like he had told her when he, Jake, and Embry had left to chase down the nomadic vampire that got too close to the reservation. He always told her what was going on with the Pack, so was there something _worse_ than vampires now?

"Something definitely happened, Quil. I'd really like to know what it was, especially since it made Rachel so mad at Paul that she didn't show up to breakfast the next day," _Neither did you, actually_.

"Claire, it's really not important." He wasn't looking at her anymore; he was trying to stop the trembling in his hands that only intensified every time she mentioned Paul.

"I don't care if it's not important, I want to know and Seth told me that I had to ask y—are you okay?" She had finally noticed the tremors.

Quil shook his head slowly, still not looking at her. The memory of the weekend before, and what Paul had said, had only gotten worse with time. He knew he had blown it out of proportion then, and was doing the same now, but Paul had no r—he needed to calm down, now.

It took Claire a moment to realize what was happening, Quil was fighting the urge to phase. She knew she probably should have been concerned for her own safety but she couldn't manage anything more than confusion at the moment. Quil had been a werewolf for years; he probably had the most control in the Pack, with the exception of the ever-levelheaded Collin. What was going on?

"Quil?" Her voice was quiet.

Hearing the sound of his name on her lips made the tremors subside a little, but not entirely. He had avoided thinking about the altercation with Paul all week and now all of the anger he had felt that night was rushing back. It was at a completely new level this time.

When he didn't respond to her Claire started to panic just a little. What was she supposed to do? Calming down werewolves wasn't a gift she possessed, she didn't even know what she should say, not to mention do. She'd seen Rachel take on Paul when he was about to lose control of his wolf only once, she had been twelve and Quil had escorted her bodily out of the room under the pretense of ice cream before anything had gotten too intense.

Rachel had the power of being Paul's imprint that she could use in situations like that, she could rank higher than the Alpha if she needed to; Claire couldn't think of what she was supposed to do, she didn't _have_ that power over Quil, she had nothing. As she watched Quil trying to regain control she started to reevaluate the situation. _Shouldn't I be scared?_ Apparently the answer was no because when the tremors running through his torso worsened again she reacted on pure instinct.

"Quil." She repeated, the soothing tone of her voice completely foreign, as she reached out and placed her hand against the side of his face forcing him to look up at her. The danger of being that close to a werewolf who was on the brink of phasing not even registering in her mind, Uncle Sam would have been horrified.

He froze when she touched him, avoiding her gaze as she tried to coax him in to looking at her.

"Quil, look at me, you need to calm down."

He couldn't resist her words, they were like one of Sam's orders but they didn't ring sharply in his ears, her voice echoed in his head softly, he didn't just have to listen to her, he _wanted_ to. His eyes locked with hers immediately when he looked up and he got lost in them, the memory that had brought on his rage slowly starting to slip away.

…

Kaye stepped back in to the garage, still on the phone but no longer with Kellan.

"Alright, mother! I'm getting in the car, it won't take me long to get home. No, I'm not in a bar! For God's sake mother, would you stop asking me that every time I go somewhere with Summer? I'll see you when I get home." She snapped the phone shut and threw it into her purse, scowling.

She walked over to where Summer was now examining her acrylic nails, having resorted to throwing a glance in Embry's direction only once in a while.

"Does she really think I take you out to bars every time we hang out?" The blonde questioned not looking up from her nails.

"You know, I really think she does," Kaye was rifling through her purse for her keys as she spoke, "My sister decided to come home for the weekend so my mother wants me home, for _family bonding_ and such. Where's Claire? I've got her sketchbook for her; I didn't want to drive off with it"

Summer inclined her head in the direction of the back office as she accepted the thick spiral bound book from her friend. Kaye followed her gaze and turned back with an expression that asked a question that Summer had been pondering for the past few minutes. _Still?_

"Okay, well, could you tell her I'm really sorry?" Kaye continued, finally finding her keys, "I've really got to go, my mother will kill me if I don't come home tonight. I'll see if she'll let me get away next weekend though, we can come down to visit again."

"Sounds good to me, I'll let her know why you had to bail if she ever comes out," Summer assured, picking up her phone to check the time.

"Alright, later babe!" Kaye headed out of the garage but turned just before she stepped out on to the gravel lot, "It was nice meeting you Embry!"

Embry raised a hand in acknowledgement, mumbling something that Kaye assumed was "It was nice meeting you too," but she wasn't entirely sure.

Summer idly flipped through Claire's sketchbook, not really looking too long at any of the drawings for fear of invading her friend's privacy. Starting from the back she noted that there were a significant number of sketches Claire had done on the beach earlier in the day, but it was the drawing tucked between these and a set of the Uley home that caught her eye. It was on a separate piece of paper, tucked haphazardly between the bound pages. It was of a man, his bare back to the artist, leaning against one of the posts on the porch of what Summer decided was Claire's Aunt and Uncle's house.

She stared at the sketch for a moment longer, something telling her that the man in the drawing was most definitely Quil. She wasn't sure why she knew this, seeing as a brief glance over at Embry (and a moment of reveling in the way his white t-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders as he worked) made it obvious that it could easily have been a sketch of him. Summer shook her head, it wasn't Embry though, for some reason she knew this. It was Quil.

"Some friends you have."

His voice made Summer jump and shut the sketchbook in one swift motion. She looked up to find Embry leaning back against the car he had been working on, cleaning his hands with a rag and giving her a boyish grin.

"One leaves you to hang out with her mom, the other leaves to talk to a guy she sees almost six days a week." The grin didn't leave his face as he spoke.

"I know right, and look who they left me with!" She threw a teasing smile in his direction, being a bit more brazen than she had a right to, seeing as they'd met a grand total of an hour ago.

Embry just shook his head and headed towards the sink in the back of the garage, throwing the wrench he had been using onto a workbench as he went. Summer stared up at the ceiling, keeping Claire's sketchbook firmly shut on her lap.

"I can't believe I'm missing SmackDown for this," she sighed quietly to herself.

Embry heard her anyway.

"_You _are a wrestling fan?" His tone was blatantly doubtful, so much so that Summer quickly threw her guard up.

"Is that a _problem_?"

"Not at all," Embry gave her a searching look for a moment before he turned and dropped the hood of the car he had been working on, clearly indicating that he was done working for the night.

"Hungry?"

Summer didn't realize that he was talking to her immediately, still on the defensive after his last comment about her atypical idea of Friday night entertainment.

"What?"

"You missed dinner at Emily's" he continued, still looking at her like he was searching for something, "We can get pizza, and SmackDown doesn't start for another fifteen minutes."

Summer was stunned. She spent a few long seconds trying to sift a hidden meaning out his words but couldn't find one, and she could have sworn he winked at her. What the hell, she was hungry.

"Should we drag those two out of there?" She asked, throwing a glance back at the office that Quil and Claire had yet to emerge from.

"Probably not," Embry was grinning at her subtle acceptance of his invitation, "We'll leave a note."

Summer dug a purple pen out of her purse as Embry produced a scrap piece of paper, one corner of it looking as if it had suffered a minor altercation with fire. She eyed the charred edge, Embry just shrugged. He watched as she wrote out the note, a few simple words and an S surrounded by a heart at the bottom.

_Kaye had to go home, Mommy Dearest called._

_Went with Embry._

_Pizza._

_Join us when you're done._

_-S_

Summer placed the note and Claire's sketchbook on the end of the workbench nearest the office door; she knocked lightly on the door twice and turned back to Embry.

"Let's go!"

…

Quil was savoring the feeling of her palm against his skin, hoping that she wouldn't notice that the only reason his breathing had returned to normal was because he had matched it to hers. He closed his eyes once he had complete control again, taking a deep breath.

"It was me."

"What?" Claire's voice still held the quiet soothing tone.

"I'm the one who lost my temper last weekend…kind of attacked Paul." The last part of his sentence was more mumbled than spoken.

"What did he say?" Claire's hand left the side of his face and he immediately felt like there were leagues between them. She had subconsciously leaned closer to him though, and he took that as an adequate exchange for the loss of contact, for now.

"It's not important, it was stupid for me to react the way I did." _No, it wasn't._

Quil marveled at the fact that she had immediately assumed Paul was the antagonist, even though he had already admitted to being the one to attack Paul. Was that an imprinting thing? Did that connection make her see him differently than other people? Or did she really believe he could do no wrong?

"It must have been important, Quil. You never lose your temper, with anyone, _ever_." Claire couldn't look at him anymore, she was looking down at her hand, the one than just seconds ago been up against his warm skin.

"Yeah, I know, Claire," He replied watching her examining her hand, "Things have just been getting really out of hand lately, an example being just a few minutes ago."

He leaned forward, hands running through his hair again. Claire caught this motion, immediately recognizing more stress. She didn't understand why Quil's anxiety bothered her so much; it was like it made her anxious too. She reached forward, acting on instinct again, her fingers running along his arm. It was the best gesture of comfort she could give from the position she was in. He looked up at her, their eyes locking again; he looked like he wanted to say something to her.

Two light raps on the door broke them apart, Claire snatching her hand back again and stood from where she had been seated on the end of the desk. Quil was checking the time on his phone.

"Shit, we missed dinner at Sam's."

"It's that late!" Claire's eyes flew to the screen of his phone that he held up to her. "I left Kaye and Summer out there with Embry. I told them I wouldn't be long." She rushed for the door, Quil following behind her.

The shop was empty when they exited the office. Claire stood for a moment, completely confused, before she noticed her sketchbook and the note that accompanied it.

"You left Embry to baby-sit two eighteen year old girls? Probably not the best decision you've made today, Claire."

Claire read the note, handing it to Quil when she finished. She wasn't sure whether to worry or burst in to laughter.

"Kaye had to go home, but—"

Her sentence was cut short by the unmistakable sound of Embry's Suzuki SV tearing out of the gravel lot.

"—Summer's the one we should be worried about."

"Apparently."

Quil and Claire both stared at the closed garage door for a moment, not quite sure what to do next.

"I'm surprised he got her to go near that bike, most girls are scared to death of it, especially with the way he drives." Quil was pulling the keys to his truck off the hook as he spoke, motioning for Claire to follow him out of the garage.

"If it has an engine Summer is going to be all over it," Claire was starting to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, "his trouble is going to come when he tries to get her _off _the motorcycle."

"You have interesting friends, little girl."

Claire gritted her teeth at the sound of her nickname. Of anyone, she hated it most when Quil used it. Come to think of it, she actually _abhorred_ the name when Quil used it.

While Quil was locking up the garage, Claire remembered the note she had shoved in her back pocket earlier. Pulling it out she noticed that it had unfolded a little, revealing the words _little girl_.

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the paper, suspicion rising. It wasn't going to kill anyone if she read it, right? Nope. She flipped the folded paper open, and nearly stamped her foot when she read its contents.

_You need to stop being so nosy little girl._

_And you need to talk to Quil._

_-Seth_

Seth was now officially the most obnoxious person she knew. Unfortunately, his methods worked, no matter how unorthodox they were, the note had been the reason that she'd come to the shop in the first place. And now she and Quil were speaking again. _Who sends handwritten notes to people? What is this, third grade?_ Claire just rolled her eyes and shoved the note back in her pocket as she hauled herself up in to the passenger seat of Quil's truck.

She was too happy with the fact that she was speaking normally to Quil again to consider being mad at Seth. In fact, she made a mental note to have a huge batch of chocolate chip cookies and a hug waiting for the youngest Clearwater the next time she saw him.

* * *

**I feel like a lot of people were expecting the note to be a huge ordeal, but I never intended it to be, it was just Seth's kind of silly attempt to convince Claire to talk to Quil. Sorry if that ended up being a bit of a letdown. : [**

**I'm never sure what I feel about my writing, so why don't you all let me know what you think?**

**Oh! And go check my profile for a link to another Quil/Claire story, _Words_, it's written by a friend of mine! : ]  
**


End file.
